Scars
by muggleborn.dragon.ryder
Summary: Jim Hawkins has been on this ship for a few years. So he knows how to survive. He knows to survive with this crew, you have to be tough. And he is tough...or so he thinks. But what he doesn't know is how to react to the one thing he's never been offered before: kindness. With the help of a prisoner named Silver aboard the ship, will he let his scars be healed? AU.
1. Uncertainty

**A/N: So this is my new TP fic. NO JUDGEMENT, GUYS, I'VE ONLY SEEN THE MOVIE TWICE AND I AM IN LOVE! OKAY? Um, you'll find out more about Silver and Jim and all that in chapters two and three and etc. **

**I'll explain why Silver's imprisoned in chapter, like, three. IDK. Parts of this fic are all planned out and parts are just kind of thrown in there. I threw some stuff in there. Anyway, warnings for the story and chap are below.**

**WARNINGS: Verbal abuse is slight in this chapter but gets worse as the story progresses. Also mentions of past physical abuse and emotional or verbal abuse that gets worse as the story progresses also. Possible self-injury and mild torture.**

**P.S: THIS AN AU. **

* * *

Jim walked along the passage, carrying a tray with the minimum amount of food on it.

He wondered who their prisoner was. If the crew members' talk was to be believed, it was a cyborg.

He kept his eyes to the ground, the crew's advice swirling in his head. _Don't look into its eyes, they said, _he thought to himself as he slid the tray on the ground, hoping to avoid the cyborg prisoner's laser gaze.

The man held his head high and stared defiantly at Jim, who shyly handed him the food tray.

How would another member of the crew deal with this?

"Um…here's your food," he whispered. "Eat up." _While it's still there. Before they begin starving you like they have me._

His own stomach growled as he thought of it, reminding him he'd eaten almost nothing all day. He felt himself going red and stared determinedly at the ground, waiting for a single harsh word from the prisoner.

When it came, as it so often did, he would flee.

The prisoner eyed him. "Ya look bone thin to me. They not feed the crew right on this ship? Or is that a position reserved for only the prisoners?" he spat the last word out, jaw clenched.

_He knows what it feels like to be trapped._

Jim swallowed. What was he thinking? This man knew next to nothing about how he felt.

He quickly caught himself, realizing he hadn't responded to the prisoner and now the cyborg was gazing up at him. Deliberately avoiding looking at the man, he tried for the harsh tone Captain Scroop had perfected and ended up stuttering. "J-just eat your food." He started out of the room, heart beating rather quickly as he realized he'd been so close to letting the degrading name they called Jim himself slip off his tongue.

But he'd never let it.

Not even a prisoner, not even a cyborg deserved it. Prisoners, he thought to himself, deserved pity. They didn't deserve to be called 'slave'.

* * *

When he reached the deck, there was a small group talking in low voices. A few of the alien-like creatures caught Jim's eye and sauntered over, grinning.

Intimidating the boy was always a good form of entertainment to them.

Just before he'd gone to bring the prisoner his food, in fact, they'd taken great delight in telling him strange and frightening tales about cyborgs. Though Jim would rather die than admit it, they had worked.

He stumbled past them quickly, trying to get to his quarters before they caught up to him…_please don't let them catch up to him…_

"Was the cyborg _scary_?" teased one crew member, punching him in the shoulder. Anybody else might think it a friendly swat, but waves of pain ran up and down Jim's shoulder, leaving the boy in no doubt that the punch had been done with the intent to hurt.

Everyone only touched him with the intent to hurt nowadays.

"I bet you was so scared…"

They carried on poking fun as he hurried on past them, head down, heading for the captain's office. Wanting to make sure Captain Scroop wouldn't object to him going to bed, attempting to sleep.

"Well, at least you didn't have to worry about his _laser eye_!"

"So tell us what really happened down there?"

Jim had reached the captain's wooden door by now and turned on them, struggling to keep his tone in check. If he didn't, they'd beat him to a bloody pulp…again. He sighed, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Nothing. I brought him his food, told the stinkin' cyborg prisoner to eat. Nothing really happened down there."

The crew looked disappointed. They liked fights. No blood spilling meant no entertainment for them, causing them to turn to Jim for ways to entertain themselves.

In fact, the only good entertainment they'd had for years WAS Jim. Watching him get beaten up. Beating him down. Calling him useless.

Cowardly Jim. Weakling Jim. Useless Jim. Weirdo. Freak. Idiot.

Thinking about it made Jim shake with anger for himself, frustration with his situation and worst of all, helplessness.

His fingers slipped on the clasp of the knocker, causing it to come loose from the wooden door. He ended up knocking with his fist, frantically trying to position the knocker back on one-handed.

Before he could, the captain used one of his many spider-like legs to open the door.

Most people would be scared of Scroop. It wasn't every day you saw a gigantic spider with eight yellow eyes, after all.

But Scroop didn't scare Jim.

No, he terrified the poor boy.

Shaking a little from his tangle with the knocker in his frustration, he entered the darkened office, clutching the door knocker in one fist, hidden behind his back so Scroop wouldn't be mad and scream at him again.

Telling him the useless, broken slave boy had broken something else.

"What do you want, slave boy?" demanded Scroop, sitting down in the desk chair and tilting himself so he faced Jim.

"May I sleep now, Master?" The word 'master' didn't fall easily from Jim's tongue. It had taken a firm hand to show him that on this ship, you sacrificed your pride and your dignity to keep your life.

Scroop sighed. "Bother me not with your uselessssss talk, sssssslave boy. Go sleep. Do the world a favor and shut up for a few hourssss."

Jim bit his lip and nodded, getting ready to stand and leave the room.

"One more thing," Scroop continued, "that door knocker had better be back on by the time I next ssssseeeee it."


	2. Determination

**A/N: Chapter 2: Determination **

**Um...here's the newest chapter...how is it? Scroop is a bit short-tempered in my AU xD I apologize for any OOC-ness. I think I kept Silver in character, but I know Jim was very OOC, but that's because this is an AU in which he's terrified of Scroop.**

**He doesn't HAVE to be, by the way. That was just added in there for angst, because I do love the angst. And I love giving Jim angst. He had a HECK OF A LOT of it in the movie, BTW. **

* * *

Long John Silver wasn't one for giving up.

Sure, maybe he was imprisoned aboard this ship and wouldn't be let go for most likely the rest of his life – but that didn't matter.

This was just a minor setback, he assured himself.

The person he was really scared for here was Morph.

Morph was a tiny pink blob that could take on the appearance of anything he wanted, which he did often.

The last he'd seen of Morphy, the little guy had been quivering in fear as they'd shoved him into a cage.

He swallowed, leaning back against the cell wall, before he suddenly sat back up, the oddest of smiles adorning his scarred face.

Silver was a pirate, after all. And pirates had been trained to look for weak links in a crew, to make sure none of them would go soft.

He sensed a weak link in the boy who had brought him his food.

He sensed disgust and revulsion for the rest of the crew, but also fear. Dark, terrible fear that tortured the young lad every day of his life.

Maybe, if the fear and distaste were strong enough motivators, he could use it for himself. He could use the boy's weakness to his advantage.

He leaned back against the wall again, still smiling that odd, peaceful smile. He had a plan. The next time he saw the boy, he would talk to him again.

And he would grab hold of his weakness.

* * *

Jim was woken early that morning by whispering voices.

"Did ya hear the news?"

"No, I didn't. What's goin' on?"

"Wonder if anyone's bothered to tell Sleeping Beauty over there."

"Sleeping Ugly, you mean."

"Oh, shut up, both of ya. We'll let Scroop have his way with the boy."

Jim had always been a light sleeper, and the whispering was difficult to ignore, especially now that he was awake.

He sighed and sat up, swinging his legs over his side of the hammock and pulling on his boots.

He couldn't help noticing the rest of the crew backed away from him as he stood, as if he carried some terrible, contagious disease.

"What's going on?" he demanded, turning to look at them. His heart beat fast with fear – slaves ought to never demand from their masters an answer.

"Wh-what do you mean?" sputtered one of the alien-like creatures, Truff. "Nothin', besides the usual stuff. The rest of the crew wanders and you go off and are useless." He added a shaky smirk at the end, signaling to Jim that all clearly wasn't well.

Normally, if Truff insulted Jim, it got big laughs from the rest of the crew, and his smirk was more assured, easier, more comfortable…something was clearly not right.

Jim swallowed, pushing his hair back from his face. His blue eyes scanned the crowd of crew members suspiciously, looking for the weakest link.

He found none, however, and he bit his lip, staring around at them.

"Well, for Pete's sake, don't be useless here," added Brick, another crew member. "At least do us all a favor and hang around alone."

"If you must hang around at all."

"Good one, Reggy!"

Snickers from the rest of the crew.

Jim unlatched the wooden door and suddenly, a voice from behind burst out, "The captain wishes to speak to you."

Turning, Jim wasn't sure who had spoken; only that the entire crew was still staring at him awkwardly.

Most of them were grinning, cracking their knuckles, happily anticipating bloodshed.

Others looked uncertain whether to be sad or not.

Definitely rattled now, Jim nodded. "Alright. I'll—I'll be sure to see him, then."

"Straightaway, he said," Reggie added, no hint of sarcasm or mischief in his voice, though he was among the ones smiling evilly.

Jim nodded again and started out and this time, no one stopped him.

When he made it to the captain's door, he knocked.

The hissing voice from the other side called for him to enter and he did so nervously.

"Um…Master, might I ask why you called me here? The other crew members s-said you did…" he kept his eyes on the ground, desperately trying to keep the stutter out of his voice.

It was rumor that the captain could sense fear.

The captain's lips curled up into a smirk and he reached out one of his many spider-legs to grab hold of something on a wooden shelf.

When he'd finally managed to get it, he tossed it to Jim, who caught it single-handedly. It was a golden sphere, seeming to glow from within. "Um…sir…?"

"Look at it," hissed the spider-captain. "What do you ssssseee?"

"I…see my face," Jim said uncertainly, looking at the clear gold surface. "And a bit of dust…"

"You idiot!" hissed the spider. "Never mind. It appears I was…wrong about you. You may go."

"What did you want me to look for, sir?" Jim asked, tilting his head to one side. "Because I can kind of see some numbers…"

"Never mind, I said," snarled the captain. "Let go of it…let go of it!"

Jim quickly dropped the golden sphere, backing away as the spider cornered him. "What have I told you about obedience?"

"I'm sorry!" Jim blurted, "I only wanted to find what you wanted me to!"

"What did I tell you," hissed the creature, his claws frighteningly close to Jim's face, "after I asked you what you could see?!"

"You told me to let go of it," Jim whispered, not daring to meet the spider's gaze.

"Exactly," replied the creature, taking gentle hold of Jim's chin and forcing it up so he stared into eight hypnotic yellow eyes. "And what did you do?"

"I failed to obey," Jim whispered, flinching a little as the spider dealt him a savage blow with one of his many legs.

"Disobey my orders again," snarled the old spider captain, "and you will regret it. Understand?"

"Y-yes sir," Jim nodded.

"Good," he sneered. "Now. Go…make yourself useful and feed our prisoner or something."


	3. Frustration

**A/N: Chapter 3: Frustration**

**Um...here is chapter 3...slightly shorter than the first two...**

**IMPORTANT NOTE: The things in italics and underlines are basically the things Scroop has taught Jim in his...wait, he's seventeen...and he got on the ship when he was twelve...twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen...six years on the ship! Okay! Six years! xD no, I didn't do any math before doing this story xD All I know is that he was on the ship when he was twelve...his hair was shorter, then...he didn't have the braid then, either xD that horrid braid xD reminds me of Hiccup from How to Train Your Dragon 2 XD**

**IMPORTANT NOTE 2: My grammar isn't really that bad. (And you'll never believe it, but I misspelled grammar in that sentence xD) I changed it so I made the crew sound less intelligent, but don't expect that kind of thing from me in other fics. I only make my characters sound stupid when I'm doing dumb pirates or something **

* * *

When Jim entered the prisoner's cell again, he dropped the tray of food on the floor and gently pushed it towards the man, heart beating fast with fear as he looked up and caught Jim's eye.

Jim flinched away from him as if burned. He'd been taught to look at the ground, that looking into someone's eyes was a disrespectful move.

He stared at the floor that he gently lowered himself onto, eyes moving to the toes of his boots.

"What might your name be, lad?" asked the prisoner, picking up a piece of bread from the tray and biting into it.

"Jim." The boy hardly even whispered it.

He kept his eyes to the ground, waiting for the man to speak.

"Me name's Long John Silver," the man smiled kindly at him, finishing off the bread and offering the boy a purp. "You look hungry, lad. Would you like some fruit?"

Jim quickly shook his head, pulling his knees up to his chest. Scroop's rule raced through his mind:

_Don't accept anything from anybody else. They're going to want something from you in return._

"No, thank you," he whispered.

The man lowered the fruit back down onto the tray and pushed the tray over to the boy. It made a rough sliding noise as it flew over to him.

Jim didn't even glance at the food.

_A stranger's kindness is false. They're only trying to hurt you. _

He swallowed.

"So…" the man looked quizzically at him. "Why are you here?"

"To bring you your food." He kept his answers as short as possible, hoping not to give anything away, but also, at the same time, with every word he spoke, whispering a cry for help.

The prisoner smiled and then it turned into a soft chuckle. People in chains weren't supposed to chuckle. It simply wasn't natural. "No, no, not down here, with me…why are you here at all? On the ship? You don't seem to…like it here very much." The man seemed to struggle over his words for a second or two and finally ended it on that.

Oh. Jim felt dumb, bringing one of Scroop's first rules back to him:

_You're stupid. _

He bit his lip and shrugged. "Master likes having a slave boy to do work for him."

"Master?" the prisoner tilted his head. "Why do you call him 'master', lad?"

_You will call me master. _

"He likes me to," Jim whispered.

There was a long silence as Jim nervously tapped his fingers on the dusty cell floor, heart beating quickly, wondering…wondering if the man in chains was going to let him go.

It was true; he couldn't do much to hurt Jim from his position – not much with his hands, at least.

But Jim knew there was a sort of abuse that existed that was so, so much worse than physical. All the prisoner had to do to cripple him was tell him he was useless. That he was stupid. That if he died, he'd be doing the world a favor.

And Jim would believe him. Because that was what he'd been taught.

_You're useless._

He'd been taught that he was a mistake, an accident, that Scroop was nice for taking him in.

_It is by my kindness that you're still alive._

Only Scroop wasn't kind. He was cruel and murderous and—

But he took me in, Jim reminded himself quickly. You shouldn't think that way about your master.

Finally, Silver spoke up. "You look troubled, lad. Anythin' wrong?"

"No."

_Tell anyone what happens to you or anybody else on this ship and I'll abandon you to the mercy of strangers._

Jim had been taught to lie.

Silver shifted a little and Jim whispered, "Do you want me to go?"

"Ya don't have to," Silver replied.

_Translated, he doesn't want you here. Get out._

Jim stood and took the tray from the floor, walking up the stairs until he reached the deck.

"Hey, slave boy!" greeted Truff. "What did the captain want with you?"

"You're still alive," Brick noticed, sounding disappointed.

"Unfortunately," Reggy added.

Jim didn't look at them.

"You didn't answer!" Reggy cried. "What did he want?" He walked in front of Jim, blocking his path.

Jim swallowed. His grip on the tray tightened. "I'm not sure _what _he wanted."

"Sounds like him," Truff sniggered. "Too stupid to know anything."

Jim ducked his head, feeling the familiar waves of embarrassment crashing over him.

_If the crew says anything degrading about you, don't try to make a comeback. You deserve it._

He swallowed and tried to walk past them, but Reggy held out a hand, easily preventing him. "I said," snarled Reggy, "what did he want?"

"And I said I'm not sure," Jim replied quietly. "Please let me by."

Reggy rolled his eyes. "I should've known." He let his hand fall to his side and Jim walked quickly past. "Too stupid to do anything."

"Yeah, you're useless!"

"Why don't the captain just chain you up and lock you in a cage?"

"He need a collar."

There were chuckles as Jim felt his face grow red again and his hands clench into fists at his frustration and helplessness.

"Well, he certainly looks like a dog."

"Has the brain of one, too."

"You idiot! Dogs has big brains."

"Brain of a floorboard, then, how's about that?"

"_You _have the brains of a floorboard…"

Jim sighed and kept walking to get the mop and bucket.


	4. Easier To Forget

**A/N: Chapter 4: Easier To Forget**

**So here's the next chap! *big smile* sorry about how long I was away, even if it was only a few days to you guys it felt like eternity! It's good to be back at my desk, typing Treasure Planet angst :) It's where I belong :) Oh, yeah, got this movie on DVD today :) so I re-watched it and it was even better than I remembered (if that's even possible xD) **

* * *

This "Jim" lad might be harder to convince than Silver had originally thought.

The boy looked weak. He looked easily influenced, like if you told him one thing, he'd believe it forever!

But no – he wasn't like that, it appeared. He had remained utterly unreachable for the entire time in this cell and had only spoken when Silver had first.

It was clear the boy wasn't the trusting type – at least, not easily.

But, with luck, Silver could get the boy on his side.

* * *

Over the next few days, Jim noticed the captain watching him more than usual.

Captain Scroop always kept a close eye on his crew, but he seemed to be watching Jim closer than ever before and it was starting to freak him out.

Even if he was doing a simple task, such as mopping the deck, Scroop would be wandering about, sending furtive, searching glances back over his shoulder at the boy.

The rest of the crew noticed nothing; they all had the attention span of a swarm of butterflies. So they went about their business, eating, sleeping, getting into fights and teasing Jim, at least when they were sure Scroop wasn't around.

It wasn't that Scroop would defend Jim; he just wouldn't approve of the rest of his crew wasting their time on him.

But the captain's ever-watchful mood put Jim on edge, and so he took to doing whatever he could to avoid the spider-captain; he did all of his jobs wordlessly and only entered the captain's office at night to ask him if he was allowed to go to bed.

The third time he took the prisoner his food, the man was waiting for him with the same serene, cheerful smile he had worn last time Jim had entered.

It wasn't right. It wasn't natural. People in chains, Jim reflected, should not smile so. They shouldn't look so at peace.

He himself was bound as surely as if somebody had tied a rope around his ankles and wrists. His bonds were invisible.

This man wore chain bracelets that trapped him here, but bars couldn't break his spirit. The invisible bonds had broken Jim long ago. He had the scars to prove it.

He swallowed and set the tray down in front of the man. "Here."

There was a silence as the man simply smiled at Jim, then picked up a piece of bread and began eating.

"At least they don't starve us aboard this ship, you gotta give 'em that," he admitted, chuckling a little.

"That you know of," Jim muttered, causing the prisoner's head to snap up.

"What?"

"Nothing," Jim replied, leaning back against the wall.

In the silence that followed, Jim finally decided to voice his question. "There's one thing about you I can't understand." He admitted.

The prisoner wiped a grimy hand on his shirt and turned to Jim, chains rattling. "Alright. I'm all ears, m'lad. What don't you understand?" His smile was kindly, his tone even kinder, but his eyes betrayed him; he looked as if he were merely mocking the boy.

Jim sighed, resting a hand on his forehead. "You look so happy."

Another silence.

"What's wrong with that, Jimbo?"

The nickname caused Jim's eyes to snap open. He scanned the man suspiciously, looking for a hint of mockery, but there was none; this was the first name somebody had called him for a long time that hadn't been derogatory.

"People in prison cells shouldn't be happy," Jim remarked, blue eyes still suspicious, still fixed on the prisoner, waiting for a sign of hatred…why didn't he show a sign of hatred?

Normally, prisoners detested their captors. In all the books Jim had read – not that he'd read very many after he'd joined this crew – the prisoner displayed nothing but contempt for the people who had captured him.

This man merely appeared bored with the rest of the crew and oddly, intrigued by Jim, which was yet another strange thing.

It had been a long time since Jim had ever interested anyone with what he had to say.

"Do you mean," The man asked, tilting his head to one side, "that people in cells should be unhappy or that you're unhappy?"

Jim was starting to deeply dislike where this conversation was going. "I didn't mean anything by it." His voice came out harsher than he'd intended, a much sharper tone than he'd used in a long time, yet the man didn't flinch.

His black eyes, curious and open, roved over Jim's face, wondering, wondering…

He was curious, Jim realized. Curious…about what? He felt himself beginning to tense, mentally screaming at the prisoner. _No. I won't help you escape. I won't help anyone. _

The prisoner smiled gently. "It's alright, lad. Anyone with a piece of a sane mind would hate it on here."

"So you're saying you're not as happy as you pretend to be," Jim said quietly, more saying than asking.

The man – what was his name again? Oh, yeah. Silver.

Silver chuckled lightly, for all the world as if they sat in a meadow full of flowers than in a dirty, dark prison cell in which he'd be left alone for another day with lower spirits than before, because every day that he didn't escape meant another day less likely that he would.

"I ain't sayin' that, though you are, I must admit, perceptive for one your age. Amazing…for one so young." His mysterious black eyes flicked up to Jim again and Jim felt as though everything he'd ever done, past, present, and future, was laid out before the man with the laser eye.

He felt the strong urge to run and hide, get away, far away from here, from this man with his golden eye. Away from the captain, with his eight legs and eight eyes, away from the ones called Truff and Brick and Reggy, away from the taunts, the cruel nicknames that didn't feel friendly or affectionate like "Jimbo" or "lad".

He tugged at the hem of his black jacket self-consciously, waiting for the prisoner to say something else.

Finally, Silver smiled and leaned back, the ghost of a laugh building in his throat. "I promise ya," he said, holding up both hands as if in surrender, "I ain't gonna start beatin' ya, lad."

Jim's expression didn't change.

Silver noticed the wall going up again, sensing the distance between them becoming vast and unbridgeable again and he swallowed, the humor dying from his face. "Of course," he added quietly, wanting to tell Jim without saying it that he hadn't thought of the boy's treatment on this ship, "I forgot what kind of creatures you're traveling with. You may have met things far worse than me aboard this old tub."

Jim's hands were on his upper arms, rubbing up and down subconsciously, as if he were cold. "It's easy to forget."

"Yeah," Silver nodded, "it's always easier for another person than the one it happened to. It's always easier to forget."


	5. That One Dream

**Chapter 5: That One Dream**

**IMPORTANT NOTES: Yes. I know Jim is OOC in this and every chapter prior. I don't wish to offend people who respect in-character AUs, but I do not. I don't put much stock in keeping somebody in character if it is an AU and this is an incredibly warped AU in which Jim has been abused and basically no one has ever loved him or cared about him. He's afraid, alone and feels pretty much helpless, so he's given up. The story starts when Jim's given up. He's had all he can take, but there was no breaking point, there was no way for him to express all the fear and anguish he's been keeping inside. As a result, he has no (healthy) way to express emotions, meaning he often turns his anger inward, resulting in berating or bullying himself and taking the abuse the other crew members so casually fling his way. He has a lot of anger directed at himself and he has low self-esteem and a lot of fear, because he's never been allowed to properly express his emotions.**

**WARNINGS: Um, there really aren't any warnings for this chapter. It's not fluffy exactly, because there's still some dark undertones, but it's not like my last few chapters, with all the mild verbal abuse and bullying Jim suffers on the ship. Oh, another OC makes himself known in this story :) hope you like him!**

**P.S: Would you guys read 'I'm Still Here' by read please? You don't have to, but I would like you guys to, because he/she wrote a pretty good JimXOC story and yet, the only reviewer and reader he/she has is me. I want them to get the reads and reviews they deserve, that's all :) **

* * *

Scroop massaged his temple with his claws. Listening to his crew whine, however, would be worth it.

He'd scared the boy off in his short-temperedness; next time, he wouldn't let the boy run.

He didn't give a damn if the slave was quaking in his red and black boots; he was going to stay and either prove he was needed alive or prove to his captain that Scroop should've killed him a long, long time ago.

"I don't understand why you still keep him on this ship," argued one of the creatures, Truff. Truff was a particularly whiny alien, one Scroop didn't like it at all.

"Well, my reasonss are my reassssonssss!" snarled Scroop. "And not for you to understand! If you all despissssse him that much, jussssst ignore him!"

"Yeah, tell that to them," Shadow remarked quietly, cocking his gun.

Scroop's yellow eyes snapped to the corner where the black as night creature stood, calmly cleaning the barrel of his fine weapon.

"Shadow," he commented, tongue flicking out as he hissed. "Here at lassst, I ssseee."

"Got held up." Shadow spoke as though Scroop's words ought to be taken with a grain of salt – the same way he treated the crew, the same way he treated Jim. He was one of the few crew members who didn't bully Jim, but he certainly didn't stand up for him, either; he ignored everyone with a superior air.

The truth was, he was pretty much superior. He was Scroop's best soldier; he just needed to learn respect.

But then, Scroop reflected, if that Hawkins twit could be taught respect with a firm hand, anyone could learn respect easier.

He sighed, staring as the crew members grumbled their way below deck.

Only Shadow remained, shooing the stragglers like Reggy away. When everybody else was below deck, Shadow tucked his gun in his belt and crossed his arms, leaning against the railing. "You seriously think he's the one?"

"I'm possssitive," Scroop replied, forked tongue flicking lazily out. "He fitsssss the desssscription."

Shadow's mouth quirked. "I don't see what's so special about him, to be honest, Scroop."

"Captain."

"Very well, then," Shadow gave a sarcastic bow, "Captain, then. I don't see what's so special about him, Captain."

"We've been searching for Treasure Planet all our livessss," Scroop hissed. "Thissss boy could put an end to our sssssearching. Once and for all!"

* * *

The cyborg waited patiently as Jim brought him his food. He tried taking in everything about the boy at once, the way his shoulders slumped beneath his thick black jacket, the way his face was pale and his eyes tired, the dark purple bags showing clearly beneath the blue eyes.

"'Ello, Jimbo," he greeted happily as the boy set the food down in front of him. "How you doing today, lad?"

Jim shrugged and sat down across from him, sitting Indian style. There was a lull in the conversation as Silver ate slowly, offering Jim some of his food.

Jim always declined, not wanting to take a prisoner's meager amount of nourishment, though he rarely got any himself.

It wasn't really Scroop who mistreated him; he just didn't care enough to stop the others from doing the little things that Jim had slowly grown used to, like them taking his food or calling him useless and stupid.

It was the only thing he'd ever known and when you realize the only thing you've ever known isn't normal, it's a bit of a shock.

Finally, Jim sneaked a peek at the cyborg and blurted, "How did you get…like that?"

"Get like what?" Silver asked calmly, not even looking up from his tray.

"Get like…you know. H-half cyborg." Jim knew it was a rude question, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him. Before he knew it, he was asking the rudest questions.

But Silver didn't seem to mind. His face darkened a bit and he looked down at his leg, slowly rolling up his pant leg to reveal the metal contraption beneath.

"Sometimes, Jimbo," he whispered and he leaned a little closer, as if he was about to give Jim a pearl of wisdom that must never be shared, "you've been chasing that one dream so long, you can't remember what it felt like to not want it."

Jim looked baffled and the man tried to reword himself. "Everybody wants something so badly they'll do anything for it. They'd rather die today than live without ever achieving that dream. Don't you have something like that?"

Jim thought about it. Yes, he did have something like that: get off this ship. Get away from Scroop. Stay far away from Montressor. Never look back. Forget about everything and everyone who's made him unhappy and try to start a better life.

He glanced up at Silver, feeling like he finally understood something about the cyborg.

There was a moment of silence between them, not awkward, just companionable and quiet.

Jim scooted a little closer to the cyborg prisoner and said, "Why did my master take you aboard?"

Silver sighed, rubbing the back of his neck ruefully and pulling his hat down lower over his eyes. "Not much reason, other then he didn't like what I knew."

Jim tilted his head a little, as if in confusion, not getting it.

"Well, you know where the ship's headed now, right?" Silver said.

Jim shook his head and at Silver's look of astonishment, he added, "They never tell me anything. Master just gives me jobs to do and the other crew members just make fun of me."

When he realized what he'd said, he covered his mouth with his hand, eyes going wide with fear. Silver just gazed at him with sad black eyes, waiting for the boy to speak.

"I…please don't tell them I told you anything!" the boy begged. "I promise I won't speak like that again, I won't, I promise—

"It's alright, lad," Silver assured him, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder, but this was a mistake; Jim flinched away from the comforting hand as if he expected the prisoner to strike him on the face.

As he frantically gabbled out apologies, Silver raised his voice slightly. "Jimbo! It's alright, lad!"

"You won't tell my master?" Jim asked hopefully, looking like a little boy caught lying.

Silver's black eyes roved over the boy for a second or two and then he said quietly, a hint of a smile creeping up his face, "Well, I'm not in much position to do that, am I?"

Jim exhaled, looking relieved again. "Thank you," he breathed.

Suddenly, footsteps sounded on the stairs and Jim cast a frightened look at the stairs.

"Slave boy!" a voice yelled. "Where'd you go, Hawkins?"

Jim flinched at their voices and forced himself to stand, taking Silver's tray with him. "Are you done with this?"

"Yeah," Silver replied and the boy nodded and began racing towards the stairs but not before an alien-like creature reached the bottom of the stairs.

"What are you doing down here?" sneered the creature.

"Nothing, Brick," Jim replied in an even voice that trembled only slightly when he said the alien's name. "I brought the prisoner his food."

"You were down here a while, bringing the prisoner his food," snarled the creature, crossing his many arms and glaring down with hateful yellow eyes at the boy.

Jim seemed to wilt a little under his gaze. "I…um…"

"Get up there, slave, Captain wants to talk to you," Reggy said contemptuously.

Jim walked up the stairs obediently, the dish on the tray clinking slightly as his hands shook.


	6. Idiocy

**Chapter 6: Idiocy**

**Um. Hello. Yes. My newest chapter. Um. No important notes on the plot and/or characterization, this time, really. Except for Scroop. But I don't want to spoil anything about this chapter, so maybe I'll explain everything next chapter...or at the end...**

* * *

Silver watched Jim walking away and he turned his gaze upon the alien creature before him, his nose wrinkling in distaste.

"Don't flatter yous, slave," snarled Brick, heading for the stairs as well. "I were only down here to gets the slave boy."

Silver rolled his eyes as the alien left, slamming the metal door shut behind him.

* * *

Jim walked cautiously up to the captain's quarters, palms sweaty. He knocked on the wooden door, very gently with one fist and almost at once, heard Scroop's hissing voice on the other side, saying, "Come in."

He entered slowly, shutting the door behind him with a horrible feeling that this wasn't going to go well. "Um. Hello. Captain. You…you summoned me?" He tried to keep the tremble out of his voice, knowing that most people who were summoned by the captain were never seen again.

But then, the spider captain had summoned him once, just days ago, and Jim had returned.

"Do you remember thisssss?" hissed the spider, brandishing a familiar golden sphere in Jim's direction.

"Yes," Jim whispered hesitantly, remembering that last time he'd been handed it, he'd failed to obey orders.

"Look at it," ordered the creature menacingly. "And tell me what you sssseee."

Jim carefully took it, examining it. He inspected the whole thing as carefully as he could, remembering that the last time he had failed his master, Scroop wasn't pleased.

"Um…I see…I see some numbers," he offered up hesitantly, just like last time. "And some markings, but…"

"What do they say?"

"I can't read the markings," Jim replied quietly, not looking up from the gold sphere, just in case Scroop was glowering at him for his stupidity. "But the numbers…there's a four…then a six…then a five…then a two…and a ten, or maybe that's a one and a zero placed too closely together…and…"

"Do you see anything else?" Scroop asked, cutting across the boy's nervous monologue.

"Um…" Jim looked down at it again, nervously twisting it in his hands, thinking of something similar he'd seen once on Montressor, something called a Rubix cube…he'd always liked those little cubes…his father often used to tell him he was restless…moving his hands always helped…

As he fiddled with the ball, the top slowly rose up and off and a strange green light began shining from it, creating a glittering green dome around them.

"Amazing," Scroop whispered, seemingly sidetracked by the results of Jim's tinkering with the sphere. He muttered a few planet names to himself. "That's Montressor…" Jim distinctly heard him murmur. "And that's…" he gasped as he looked at a planet with rings surrounding it, shining brighter than every other planet. "That's…" he fixed a burning yellow gaze on the boy. "Leave me now," he hissed. "You have not failed me today."

Jim had hardly dared to breathe since he'd entered the captain's office, and now he let out a little, relieved exhale, leaving the sphere open on Scroop's desk and racing, as fast as he could, out of the captain's room and up to his own, head full of thoughts of pleased spider captains and strange, glittering green planets and cyborg prisoners.

When he woke up the next morning, it wasn't even time for him to bring the prisoner his food before he went to see him.

Silver was waiting there, just like he always was, but there was no serenity left in his eyes. "So…what happened last night?"

"What?" Jim asked. He sat hesitantly down on the floor, waiting for the prisoner to explain.

"What happened last night to make the captain so happy?" Silver demanded. "I could 'ear 'em from all the way down 'ere, celebratin'."

"Oh." Jim had heard them too, last night; Scroop's crew's joyful shouts and yells invading his dreams and making it hard for him to sleep. He always had been a light sleeper and noises at night unsettled him, keeping him awake. "I…I have no idea."

He pushed away the unfriendly reminder of what he'd done, somehow opening that golden sphere…he didn't want Silver to know what he'd done, for some reason…he had the feeling the man wouldn't be terribly impressed with him.

"Hmm," Silver murmured. "Well."

Jim shrugged. "Well."

There was nothing said between the two for awhile, until finally, Silver asked, "So, why'd you come down here, anyway?"

Jim was tempted to tell him the real reason – that Silver was the only one who didn't make fun of him and that his cell was the only place where he was fully safe from the cruel taunts of the crew – but he knew he could never say the words out loud. "I don't know. Guess I just got bored. And I figured sitting in a cell all day must get boring, too."

Silver's expression stayed the same for an instant, and then it pulled up into a soft smile. "Ah. You're right. It's a right old drag bein' here."

Jim was grateful that the man didn't press it any further. "Um…I had a question for you."

"Alright. Shoot," Silver replied, staring down at his handcuffs as if thinking about the best way to break them.

"I was kind of…sort of…wondering…I mean, if you don't want to answer, I get it…it's completely your business, but…uh…"

"Oh, for the love of Captain Flint, spit it out!" Silver said loudly.

Jim winced a little at the harsh tone. He'd been around yelling too much in the past six years to even be able to tolerate it. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Silver bit his lip, waiting for the boy to speak. When he didn't, the prisoner prompted, "So? Your question, then?"

"Uh…I was wondering…I mean, you said that…that the reason you were aboard this ship was because…because the captain didn't like what you knew," Jim managed to get out. "But I was just, you know, a little curious about what exactly you knew."

"I told ya that, didn't I?" Silver asked, raising an eyebrow. "I asked you, do you know where this ship is headed?"

"And I said that they don't tell me anything," Jim replied. "And you never got a chance to tell me anything else."

"Well…" Silver sighed. He sent the boy a long, searching glance and finally picked back up in a low whisper of a voice. "What do you know about Treasure Planet, Jimbo?"

Jim twitched irritably and replied in a brittle voice, "Oh, please. I get enough of that from them."

"What do you mean?" Silver demanded in surprise. He was surprised that the boy knew something of Treasure Planet and that, apparently, the rest of the crew had decided to fill him in. They didn't exactly seem the warm, fuzzy type that would answer all your questions.

And they definitely wouldn't want to have to share their treasure with some cabin boy.

"I came down here because I was hoping to talk to someone who could carry on a two-seconds-long conversation with me without making me feel stupid," Jim informed him testily. "And now _you _go bringing that up." He shook his head, bitterness darkening his expression. "Master's right, I really am an idiot, aren't I?"

Silver felt his brows drawing down. "I think you oughta just tell me what's troublin' ya, lad," he replied firmly. "I'm gettin' nothin' from what you're saying."

Jim glanced up at him suspiciously and said in a bitter voice, "The rest of the crew likes to make fun of me because my mother raised me on stories like those. She taught me Treasure Planet was a real place. Well, my father never really bothered to actually explain to me that it wasn't real, he basically just taught me he didn't like me mentioning it in the house. And so when I came on this ship…" he swallowed. His posture was rigid, arms wrapped tightly around his knees, back firm and straight.

His mouth was set in a hard line as he continued. "I said something to Scroop about Treasure Planet and he asked me what I knew about it. I told him I knew it from my mother's stories and he…" he sighed, cutting Silver another quick look before plunging on. "He just told me they weren't real. And the other crew members made fun of me for believing it was."

There was a silence.

"Ignore them," Silver declared at once. "They're the idiots, not you."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Jim shrugged, though he looked slightly more cheerful than a few seconds before. "I'm a real idiot, you haven't seen me in action."

"If you are an idiot," Silver replied, "and I'm not saying you are, but if you were, it's because you've been so heavily influenced by this crew."

To his surprise, Jim's eyes widened and then he laughed. It was a short, quick chuckle and when he stopped, he looked horrified at himself for doing so. He shot a worried look at Silver, who said quickly, "In no position to tell the captain, remember? And even if I was, I wouldn't anyway. I don't care that much, Jimbo."

"Thank you," Jim said quietly.

* * *

**A/N: Yes. Scroop. The simple reasoning for why Scroop didn't murder Silver because he knew something Scroop didn't want him to: because Scroop is a bit like Bellatrix Lestrange, he just kind of likes to dangle people over a vat of boiling acid without actually dropping them in for awhile. "Or dear Bellatrix, who likes to play with her food before she eats it." - Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince**


	7. Realizations

**Chapter 7: Realizations **

**Um. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Chapter 7. Not sure how in-character I kept Silver. In case you haven't noticed, I've kind of given up on keeping Jim in-character xD Well, c'mon! xD it's a really warped AU! **

* * *

"I'm tellin' you, it is," Silver insisted. "I woulda thought you'd be a little less cynical, considerin' you believed in it for years."

Jim and Silver were still talking an hour later – after all, nobody cared where Jim was, except of course if they wanted something from him – and Jim was proving hard to convince about where the ship was headed.

"The captain won't want me tellin' you this," Silver confessed in a low voice, "but 'onest, it _is_ real and it _is_ where the ship is headed."

Jim raised an eyebrow. "But how d'you think Flint did it?"

"Did what, Jimbo?"

"You know. Stole everything and just…vanished. Without a trace."

"I have no idea," Silver responded honestly. "Theories, but they aren't likely." He shrugged.

"Hmm," Jim mused. He wiped a bit of hair out of his eyes, clucking his tongue and thinking about Treasure Planet and Flint and Scroop and—

The truth hit him like a ton of bricks. "Treasure Planet."

"What?" Silver asked, looking up at him.

"Treasure Planet. There's a map, aboard the ship! It's in the captain's quarters right now and it'll lead the crew to it! I opened the map, it works just like a Rubix cube, have you ever seen one of those? I mean, obviously, if you haven't…but I don't know why I didn't see it before…"

"The map is aboard this ship?" Silver squawked.

Jim nodded absently, running his fingers through his hair, blue eyes clouded with the questions that came with these realizations. "I don't understand…it'd be weird for Master to trust me with something like this…but then, it makes sense, that's why he never told me where we were going…guess he thought I'd try to make off with the map and find the treasure myself…"

Silver thought he saw something in Jim's eyes, something bright and warm and happy and he sensed that he was looking at the real Jim Hawkins for the first time in his life.

He may have spoken with the boy several times before, but this was the only time they had really talked.

"I can't believe you managed to open that map!" Silver replied, still stuck on Jim's last bit of conversation. _"I opened the map, it works just like a Rubix cube…"_

"Well, maybe Master hadn't managed to open it," Jim said, clearly deep in conversation with himself. "Which wouldn't make sense, Master's smarter than the rest of the crew put together…" he stopped himself here, covering his mouth and looking fearfully at Silver before realizing the man himself was so deep in thought that he hadn't even heard.

"Do you know how many people have tried?" Silver was saying. "Thousands upon thousands of explorers…although, I do admit, I'm surprised this ship's captain trusts his crew enough to let them know where we're headed. Not particularly clever, not clever at all."

"How many people have tried what?" Jim asked.

"To open that map!" Silver replied. "Even I…" he stopped himself here, looking a little guilty.

"Even you?" Jim repeated, surprised. "R-really? I mean…but you seem so…"

"I knew too much abou' Treasure Planet, kiddo," Silver responded tiredly. "I was tryin' to get to it. I had always liked to be an explorer, I traveled 'round the world. I woulda visited every planet in the galaxy if I could 'ave.

"But, uh…well, when I heard about Treasure Planet, that became my obsession. I managed to get hold of the map, which your _dear _captain…" here he made a face, emphasizing the second-to-last word. "…so graciously took off my hands before imprisoning me aboard this old tub."

"Gosh," Jim whispered, surprised by what he'd heard. "I never knew that's why you were imprisoned. I thought Master had good reason…I mean, what am I saying, he always has good reason…"

And yet, here was the proof to contradict that, sitting right in front of him.

"Still," Silver continued, "it's just surprisin', tha's all. Woulda thought it'd be an adult or someone who'd be able to open tha' map."

"What's so impressive about being able to open it?" Jim asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't think anybody in history has ever managed to, before, Jimbo," Silver replied seriously. "If they 'ave, they sure kept it quiet and you can't keep nothing like that quiet, not at all."

Jim, who had been sitting with his knees close to his chest, relaxed his position and stretched out his legs, leaning back on the dusty cell floor and turning his head to look at Silver. "Well, if someone was able to open it, then Treasure Planet would probably be a wasteland by now. No more gold or treasure left, just an empty, lifeless planet. So we'll know when we get there."

"What's this 'we' you're talkin' of?" Silver demanded, raising an eyebrow.

"Well…we are on this ship, I mean—

"They're not gonna let you near the treasure, boy! If they wouldn't even tell ya where we're goin', what makes you think they're gonna let ya even get close enough to sniff the gold?"

Jim turned his gaze back to the ceiling, his mind reeling from everything he'd just discovered.

"Hey! Where's the slave boy?!"

"No idea. Disappeared. Hasn't been seen since this mornin', now 'as he?"

"Maybe he did us all a favor and died."

"Maybe he left!"

"Oh, please, Truff. He's way too cowardly to try that. Not with the captain."

"Have a point there, then…"

Jim had gone white. With every harsh, cruel word the two aliens above them spoke, Silver saw Jim flinch.

Jim sat up quickly and stumbled over to the stairs. "I'd better go back up," he said hesitantly. "'Bye, Silver. Thanks…thanks for everything."

He started up the stairs.

"Jimbo?" Silver called, acting on an impulse.

"Yeah?" Jim whipped back around, one boot on the second stair, one on the first.

"Don't listen to 'em. They're the idiots, remember?"

Jim's face threatened a small smile. "Thank you, Silver." And with that, he disappeared up the stairs, away from the prisoner's kindness and understanding and back up into the world of harsh cruelty and cold darkness.


	8. Friend

**Chapter 8: Friend**

**Um. Yes. Cheese. Overdosed. Right here. At the end. Really bad. You'll find out more about Scroop and...stuff...at the end. Alright? But it's really angsty. xP Well, okay, not angsty exactly, but Jim might have a spot of angst when he learns about what's going on and why Scroop saved his life. **

**Also, you know that author I mentioned in Chapter 5, 'Read Please'? She's (she reviewed and told me she was, in fact, a girl xD) working on another story for Treasure Planet and this one's even better :D I really think you guys should check her out, but if you don't want to, you don't have to. Just thought I'd throw her out there. I'm not trying to annoy you guys or anything by mentioning her.**

* * *

Though Scroop was ecstatic by everything he'd just discovered, it also came with both annoyance and satisfaction.

Treasure Planet was really out there, they had the map to get to it, they had the boy to open it…but it was the boy that both troubled and pleased him today.

James Pleiades Hawkins had been a thorn in the captain's side since the day he'd joined the ship, defiant and rebellious, as though he thought the world owed him something. Over the past few years, he'd become quieter and certainly more guarded, but this was the final piece to the puzzle:

She had been correct, her prediction had come true.

The prophecy had come true!

Though it hadn't named names or even described what the boy would look like, he'd known.

Scroop thought he'd always known, deep down, that Jim Hawkins was more than he appeared to be.

The prophecy, Scroop reflected, had come true.

While a large part of him was happy, another part dearly wished that it could've been anyone – _anyone_ – except Jim Hawkins.

And then it occurred to him that the slave of which he was thinking had been very quiet lately…

He crawled over to the door and used one of his many legs to yank it open. "You," he barked at the first alien he laid eyes on, "do check and sssee where our sssssslave boy has gone off to."

He saw the alien creature nod and vaguely heard him strike up a conversation with another.

"Hey! Where's the slave boy?!"

He retired back into his quarters, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

Over the next few days, Silver saw more and more of the mysterious slave aboard the ship, who began coming down immediately after finishing his morning chores.

Sometimes, they talked of Treasure Planet – other times, Silver entertained him with wildly unrealistic stories of where he'd been. He could tell nobody else had ever bothered to reach out to the boy before, or even attempt to get to know him – the surprise that he interested Silver was evident every time the prisoner asked him a simple question.

Though he asked him simple things, Jim often had to repress the urge to demand of him why he wanted to know, not because he was suspicious of Silver – he didn't think he'd ever felt so trustful of someone in his whole life – but because he had never been asked these things before and wasn't sure why Silver even cared.

"Did you grow up on this ship, or with your parents?"

"With my dad," Jim responded. "I came aboard when I was twelve."

"Twelve?" Silver demanded. "That's pretty young, lad."

Jim shrugged. "I was alright."

"I'm surprised your father let you come, at that age," Silver told him.

"It's not like he cared," Jim said honestly. "Really, I don't think he ever even knew I was there some days." He took a breath, and a bitter expression crossed his face, faintly tainting his handsome features with anger. "He wasn't even aware I was alive until he found a chance to get rid of me."

"What do you mean?" Silver demanded. He felt like he'd been asking that question a lot lately. Jim spoke in clipped, cryptic little sentences, as though he wanted to give away as little information as possible.

"A captain of a different ship wanted…what was it now…? Oh, yeah. A 'fine young lad'." He wrinkled his nose. "I was nowhere near a 'fine young lad'." He put air quotes around the words. "But I don't think Dad really cared. He couldn't wait to get rid of me. And then when the captain decided he'd had enough, he threw me off the ship. My master saved my life and took me aboard his own ship, because I didn't want to go back home."

"Scroop saved your life?" Silver asked in surprise. He had a nasty history with the captain, even before the imprisonment, and he knew the spider wasn't exactly the warm, loving type who would save a twelve-year-old boy's life.

Jim shrugged. "Doesn't matter, I guess. Don't know why he bothered. He should've just let me die. That would've been better. For everyone, I think."

"That's not true!" Silver declared angrily. "Think of how much good you've done!"

"Like what?" Jim demanded, not angry or upset, just weary and lonely. "Give me one good reason why he saved me."

The answer rose readily to Silver's lips. "You're my friend."

"R-really?" Jim asked hesitantly. He glanced shyly up at the cyborg prisoner. "I've never had a friend before."

Silver's heart squeezed in pity. "Well, lad," he replied simply, resting a hand on Jim's shoulder and smiling inwardly at the fact that he did not flinch away, "you've got one now."


	9. A Little Lesson

**Chapter 9: A Little Lesson**

**Um...yeah. Here it is. Chapter 9! I'm proud of her, but I don't know...what's it like? Like, really, what's it like? Cuz' I'm proud of it. But...you know...I had a lot of fun writing Jim in this chapter. That's all I'm gonna say xD **

* * *

Jim always had good dreams.

It was a bit strange, surrounded by nothing but stars and cruelty; it was a wonder he wasn't kept awake by nightmares.

But he always had the sweetest of dreams, dreams that he awoke from with tears on his lashes, because he wanted them so badly to be real.

Occasionally, they'd be dreams of him with a family surrounding him, all of them talking, laughing, teasing each other, just happy to be there.

But most of the time, it was him, all alone, away from the people who could hurt him. Jim had always been a quiet boy, had always preferred solitude to people, but since joining Captain Scroop's crew, he'd realized that maybe it was better to be alone, because then nobody could hurt you.

So his dreams often consisted of him standing alone, somewhere beautiful, nobody chasing him or calling him "slave" and nobody telling him he was a mistake.

There was nobody demanding to know why Captain Scroop had saved him, either. During the day, he was miserable.

During the night, the slave boy was free.

* * *

By six-thirty that morning, Jim had successfully completed all his chores, dodged several crew members clearly looking for blood, and managed to eat something before one of them could steal his share of food.

He was loading up a tray of food for Silver, carefully making it meager enough so as not to arouse suspicion. Thinking of the cyborg prisoner brought a smile to the lonely boy's face.

He didn't think he'd ever heard anybody call him their friend before, and it was a nice feeling. He began walking down to the prisoner's quarters with the tray.

"Whatcha doin', slave?" demanded one of the crew members.

Jim should've known better than to even answer, because he knew if he gave no answer that would give them an excuse to punch him, which is what they really wanted, but he opened his mouth and answered anyway. "Bringing Sil—the prisoner his food."

He had to be careful. If people began suspecting the prisoner was actually nice to the boy, they'd be sure to keep Jim as far from him as possible.

In an effort to keep Jim as miserable as possible, the rest of the crew had taken away all the friends he'd ever had – at one point, they'd even left a perfectly innocent sea turtle to glide endlessly through space because they'd seen Jim talking to it, back when he was twelve years old and desperate for company that did not snigger upon seeing him.

"Dunno why the captain bothers giving him food," Reggy commented. "He should just let him starve."

A few other crew members nodded fervently. Jim's grip on the tray tightened, his knuckles whitening.

"The prisoner's probably too much of an idiot to even realize if the captain was trying to starve him," added another member.

Jim's hands were shaking, his temper rising. The words flew out of his mouth. "That's not true."

"What?" Reggy demanded. He took a few steps closer to Jim.

Despite taking a tiny step backward, the smaller boy gave no outward sign of fear. "I said that's not true," he repeated, as calmly as he possibly could. "The prisoner isn't an idiot."

"Oh, really?" Reggy asked, crossing his arms. An evil smirk was starting to curl his lips. "I suppose you're the expert on brilliance nowadays, then? How things change."

Jim felt himself starting to go red, and was about to close his mouth before Silver's words echoed in his ears: _"Don't listen to them. They're the idiots, remember?"_

"Yeah," he agreed sharply. "They do." He turned on his heel, heading for a shortcut to the prisoner's quarters before he heard Reggy yelling behind him.

"What's that mean, then, slave?"

"Nothing," he replied simply, trying to walk quickly to get away from these bullying crew members and their questions.

"You callin' me an idiot?"

"Well, I'm not calling you a genius." He told the larger boy and for the third time, he tried to pass, but Reggy blocked his way.

"I think we need to teach the slave a little lesson," he smirked. "Seems he's getting a bit too high on himself, is that it? A little above yourself, now, then?"

"No, I'm not above myself," Jim replied steadily. "I'm just not going to pretend stupid people are smart."

There was a gasp from several watching crew members.

Reggy cracked his knuckles loudly and Jim felt a slight twinge of uncertainty. Fear wasn't to be found, however, so he faced the other boy without flinching.

"Well, well," Reggy said calmly, "so the idiot's calling me stupid. Pot, this is kettle. You're black."

The tension seemed to be broken; the crew laughed loudly and waited for Jim to turn crimson, duck his head and walk away.

Reggy waited for it, too, but it didn't happen. Jim instead crossed his arms and said in a bored voice, "Wow, funny! You call me an idiot, and yet you lower my IQ just by opening your overlarge mouth!"

There was a collective "ooh" from the watchers. Brick's mouth actually fell open.

Jim knew instantly that he'd gone too far. Reggy's fist connected with his nose and he thought he heard the snapping of bones as he hit the deck, the tray falling from his hands and spilling food all over the floor.


	10. The Other Guy

**Chapter 10: The Other Guy**

**Um. Chapter 10. See it? It was written hastily xD it's only 780 words, lol. I'm sorry. Chapter 11 will be longer. I can promise you, one of these next few chapters WILL be longer, because the way forward with this story is clear, and I'm so grateful for that :D I'm not going to give too much away, but I didn't really have to think about the ending, because there's only really about three ways this story could possibly end, so I didn't stress over the ending when I got the idea. I mostly thought about how eager I was to write the middle xD but not THIS middle. The middle I'm referring to will probably get written in chapter 13 or 14. I'm really hoping it will, anyway. If it doesn't, then all Jim and Silver will do is fart around xD**

**P.S: Wow! Thank you, everyone, for all your reviews! They really mean a lot to me, and they help keep this story going! *small voice* so please keep reviewing? :D **

* * *

Jim could barely move. He vaguely registered the hissing, menacing voice of his captain, calling out, "What's all this, then?"

Jim opened his eyes slowly, blinking rapidly as he reached up to swipe the blood out of his left eye so he could see better.

"I thought I made it clear to all of you the day you got on this ship," hissed the captain, "there will be no brawling here! Do you have a problem with another crew member? Good! Take it ssssssomewhere elsssssse!"

There was a short, unpleasant silence. Even Reggy knew to keep his mouth shut when the captain was speaking like this.

"And you, boy," Scroop snarled at Jim, "up. Get up."

Though he was sure he couldn't, Jim tried to, anyway.

Reggy was never the type to let somebody go after one blow and seeing as he had friends surrounding him, nobody had made any moves to help Jim as Reggy, simply put, kicked his butt. There is no professional way to put that, I'm afraid.

In fact, a few of the watchers even joined in with beating Jim to a bloody pulp, an activity they never got to do much of, seeing as Scroop didn't take fighting lightly on his ship.

If he dealt you a blow, however, you gritted your teeth and you took it.

Scroop was still standing there, watching as Jim struggled to his feet.

"Go get yourselvesss cleaned up, and do try to control yourselvesss next time," Scroop hissed. "Or, for ssssome of you, there might not be a next time."

The rest of the crew all looked solemn. Scroop didn't make empty threats.

Jim nodded, trying to breathe without feeling a stabbing pain. Reggy glared at him.

As he pushed roughly by Jim, the smaller boy heard a quickly whispered insult. "Bet you're thanking your lucky stars that Captain was here to save your sorry butt."

Jim rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to sink to Reggy's level. And believe you me – it was a strong urge.

Jim shouldered his way past the stragglers, slowly cleaning up the spilled food, tossing it over the side.

* * *

"How did this happen again?" Silver asked, for surely the hundredth time that afternoon.

"I told you," Jim responded through gritted teeth as the cut Silver was treating began stinging like crazy, "one of the crew members was just showing their butt again."

"Can you be a little more specific?" the prisoner demanded, in a voice of forced calm.

When Jim had gone to see Silver later that day, the cyborg had taken one look at him and said simply, "Go find some medical supplies, if this ship has any, and then come back and tell me how bad the other guy looks."

Jim had sheepishly complied and that's how they sat there in the cell, now, Silver putting ointment on one of Jim's cuts.

"What did he even say?" Silver continued, meeting Jim's eyes. There was a magnificent bruise already blooming around one of the boy's eyes, and there was a savage cut under the other that was still bleeding a bit.

Silver applied some ointment to that one as well, ignoring Jim's hiss of pain as the stinging substance found its way into his cut.

"He called you…" Jim shook his head, mouth curling into an angry grimace. "Never mind. He was just being an idiot, okay?"

"You stood up to him for me?" Silver's hands dropped from the boy's face and he simply stared at him.

Jim felt like he'd said something very wrong. "Well…y-yeah, I mean…you've been nice to me…you're a good person…you didn't deserve to be called the things he called you."

There was a long silence and just as Jim opened his mouth to break it, Silver said quietly, "Thank you, Jim."

His large, cyborg hand found its way onto Jim's shoulder, squeezing it tightly, affectionately, and then his gentle hands forced the boy's chin upward, examining his bruising eye again. "They'll be callin' you raccoon for a while yet," he chuckled and Jim was relieved that the awkward spell seemed to have been broken.

"Don't worry," he laughed a little. "I've been called so much worse."

"I bet ya have, Jimbo," Silver replied. "I bet ya have."

And then he went back to cleaning the boy's wounds in silence.

"So, seriously, how bad does he look?" Silver asked.

"Reggy?" Jim snorted. "He's got a bruised ego, and not much more. I couldn't do anything, not when it's fourteen on one like that."

"Oh." Silver drew a sharp breath. "Lad…" he half-laughed, half-sighed, sounding oddly breathless. "…what are we gonna do with you?"

Jim shrugged. "I'm still wondering that myself, really."


	11. AN

**Dear readers,**

**I'm very, very sorry to tell you this, but it seems unlikely that I will be posting anything again until 2014. My computer has been very temperamental lately, and I can't get a new one until 2014, and I won't be updating very much until then. I love writing and it hurts to have to be away from it for so long and to deprive my readers of some more angst, but I can't do it with a computer like mine. I hope you all understand. **

**Thank you,**

**.ryder**


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